This Christmas
by Khaila
Summary: It's Christmas Time again and it is time for the Sequel to It's Christmas.With all six couples plus some! This is ALL the OneShots together! HP/GW, PP/RW, HG/BZ, AP/SB, AJ/Montague and many more! FLUFFY
1. Installment 1: I'll Be Home For Christma

**Title:** This Christmas

**Category:** Romance

**Summary:** Sequel to 'It's Christmas'. The Fates of our six couples are revealed on Christmas Days years after the ending of 'It's Christmas'.

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author notes:** It is BEST if you read **It's Christmas** first but I don't think it will be mandatory. I'm actually planning to do a one-shot for every couple (even those who DID NOT get the girl) in **It's Christmas** during the Holiday season of 2006. It's going be like homage to the original story. The Theme of this Series of One-shots is my favorite Christmas music; every one-shot will be named for one of my favorite Christmas songs! Corny I know but I couldn't resist!

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**  
This Christmas:**

Installment 1: "I'll Be Home For Christmas"

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**  
****+December 25 +**

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Susan Bones sighed -- a sigh of contentment, a sigh of comfort, a sigh of simply being – as she stood in her red jumper, holding her mug tightly in her hands, as she gazed out into the haze of white snow that blanketed London. She swept a stray piece of hair behind her ear and smiled, it was her first Christmas home in five years since that fateful holiday season. Sweden had served its purpose in her life, it furthered her career, it allowed her a small fortune of her own, and it had kept her too busy to pay attention to the gaping hole that existed in her heart. 

That night, five years before, had been a night that she had never forgotten. It was a night romances are made of, Adrian had taken her in his arms and she feared she may never forget the feeling. It was a moment she would forever quote as the very moment that she would feel truly alive for the first time in her life. It was night that kept her warm on those chilly Swedish nights when writing up lab reports refused to keep her warm. It was the man and not the act that she honestly could not forget, no matter the season Adrian Pucey was always on her mind.

They had written a few times after that Christmas and Adrian had even taken her to a quick lunch date that following Valentines Day but their lives had proven too much for the distance and it had been months since she had written to him. The distance had done nothing for the yearning in her heart, if anything it made it worse.

Susan brought the cup to her lips slowly as she went back to that night, half a decade before, when she surely lost a her heart to a man who would always be just a little bit too good for her, in her own opinion. She sat the cup on the windowsill as the years came floating back to her, she was officially an old-maid, she had reached thirty, and grown past thirty, and here she was leaning on the windowsill of her Aunt's house wishing that the noise in the family room would cease so she could enjoy the day in peace. Susan shook her brown locks, attempting to clear her head, her life was not that bad.

She was lost in her thoughts of the 'joys' in her life when she heard a soft, gentle, familiar voice fill the room, "Happy Christmas, Susan."

There was no hesitation nor was there a moment of contemplation, with the whisper of her name her heart broke all over again. She had failed to tell him that this Christmas would be the year that she would return home, for good. Her body was stiff as she squeezed her eyes shut to halt the impending onslaught of tears, she had not told him because she felt it was a waste of time, she felt they had gone too far from that night.

Adrian Pucey walked into the room, smoothing down his perfectly tailored Oxford as he slowly approached her, repeating, "Happy Christmas, Susan."

"Adrian," she mumbled, her hand reaching out to grab hold of the windowsill as her eyes flew open, "I didn't expect to see you today."

"Well," he drawled, a smirk playing upon his lips, "technically, you still haven't seen me."

Susan gave a nervous laugh as she fought the butterflies in her stomach and bid herself not to cry as she slowly turned to face the man she loved. The moment her eyes made contact with his countenance she forgot to breathe. It seemed to Susan that he had grown more handsome with time, his hair was longer, there were a few lines near the corners of his eyes and mouth but somehow she could envision the very smile that created such masterpieces. She stood there, silently, for many moments before willing her mouth to move.

"Adrian . . ." she said simply, the rest of greeting was lost in the space between them.

Adrian chuckled at her loss for words and pulled his arm from behind his back and held it toward her. "I brought you something."

Susan smiled, as she took the small, beautifully wrapped, box. She looked at it for a moment before looking back him, saying, "I can't take this."

"Why not?" he questioned slightly perplexed.

"I wasn't expecting you," she explained, still clinging to the little box, "so I don't have a gift to give to you."

"I think," Adrian paused, his green eyes washing over her, "that you being here, today, is present enough for me."

Susan blushed, feeling like a teenaged school girl all over again. "How did you know I was returning?"

"Your aunt," he admitted, as he took a few steps closer to her, clinching his fingers in a fist in order not to touch her prematurely, "the moment you Owled her with the news she came down to my office."

"But I . . ." she began pausing partially due to his proximity and partially because what she going to say did not sound too good to her own ears.

"I know, I know, now how about you opening your gift?" Adrian began as she trailed off, his index finger tapping the top of the box.

"Adrian, you didn't have too," Susan said, as she began to slow unwrap the package to find a sleek, velvet, box.

"I know," he smirked, his beautiful eyes meeting hers for only second time that afternoon, "but I wanted something to remind you of our first holiday season together."

Susan was silent, she began to slowly open the box and let out a gasp when her eyes settled upon the beauty with in. It was a necklace, diamonds set in white gold, the gleam was almost blinding. Yet, the moment she saw it she recognized it, his grandmother Caroline had worn it the night she attended his family's Christmas Ball. "Is this your grandmother's?"

"It is," Adrian answered simply, his eyes lingering on the box nestled in her small hands.

"I can't accept this, Adrian," she rambled, closing the box with a small pop, "this must be a family heirloom."

"Grandmother Caroline left it to me," he answered, pushing it back toward her gently, "with instructions to give it to the woman I loved the most."

"Adrian . . ." Susan whispered, not knowing whether to show her dismay at his grandmother's death or the excitement that his words caused.

He looked into her chocolate eyes, finally reaching up to touch her cheek, whispering, "And I thought that this would be the perfect day to deliver this to the woman I love most."

"Thank you," she mumbled her voice barely audible. Her thanks were not so much for the gift but more for the hope that his presence, and his present, brought into her life. She sighed, this Christmas was looking better by the minute.

"Would you mind terribly if I kissed you right now?" Adrian asked, smoothly, his thumb crossing the softness of her cheek.

Susan was struck speechless and slowly shook her head, her eyes trained on the green that seemed to be getting closer and closer to her. He kept his eyes on hers as he slowly lowered his head, he felt his heart race and he knew. Adrian knew for the first time that evening that he had not imagined this, she was real, she was home and she was his. She slid her arms up around his neck, her eyes moving down to his mouth; the mouth that had kept dreams occupied for five years was mere inches from hers. As his lips brushed softly against hers, his hands moved down over her curvy frame and lifted her up into his arms, it seemed that he could not bring her close enough him. After a few moments had passed, Susan sighed against his lips, as her body was still cradled lovingly to his, for the first time in several months she was more than content.

Adrian licked the bottom of her lip, seductively, before whispering, "Welcome home, darling."

Susan laid her head in the crook of his neck, nuzzling her nose over the soft skin of his neck, gently kissing the sensitive skin below his ear, before replying, "And a Happy Christmas to you, too."


	2. Installment 2: My Grown Up Christmas Lis

**Title: **This Christmas

**Category:** Romance

**Summary:** Sequel to 'It's Christmas'. The Fates of our six couples are revealed on Christmas Days years after the ending of 'It's Christmas'.

**DISCLAIMER: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author notes:** It is BEST if you read **It's Christmas** first but I don't think it will be mandatory. I'm actually planning to do a one-shot for every couple (even those who DID NOT get the girl) in **It's Christmas** during the Holiday season. It's going be like a homage to the original story. The Theme of this Series of One-shots is my favorite Christmas music; every one-shot will be named for one of my favorite Christmas songs!

I know this is not Christmas Day but Christmas Eve worked better for this one.

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**  
This Christmas:**

Installment 2: "My Grown Up Christmas List"

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**  
+ December 24 +

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**

Julius Montague silently watched the little creature as she charmed every man in the parlor, his heart ached, he felt so much love for her that he feared she was going to be the death of him. She smiled a toothless grin as one of her uncle's complimented her new robes, her thick black hair swaying with every move, her coal black eyes setting off the soft brown color of her skin. Julius looked around the crowded parlor, filled with three Christmas Trees and a little less than forty people, and wondered how his little princess had stolen the heart of every grown man in the room. He glanced quickly at his wife, who was in deep conversation with her sister-in-laws, and wondered did she realize how much Christmas had come to mean to him in the past six years.

Six years ago this same season had been a turbulent one for his family, it had been the time when his worst mistake of the year had become common knowledge, and it was also the season that had conceived that same little angel that was now perched in her grandfather's lap. Julius chuckled to himself, this was the year that the Montague and Johnson family's were spend their Holiday season at his and Angelina's estate, and it had not been a sliver of silence since the families had arrived. Julius' mother and three brother's were there with their families, as were Angelina's father and four older brothers with their families. and although the differences were there the families had always meshed together quite comfortably. Their thirteen-year-old son Miles was discussing school with a few of his cousins, while the older cousins were occupied near the fire, as if their few extra years warranted a grant of extra space from the first, second, and third years, and those four little ones who were just a year or so from school were attempting to map out the space for presents around the trees. Still, there was the youngest, and in his opinion, the prettiest of the children charming his brothers, her mother's brothers, and her mother's father out of all the change and candy they owned. He chuckled, that was five-year-old Angelica, spitting image of her mother and the apple of her father's eye.

"Happy Christmas, Julius," said his mother, Estelle, as she came gliding up to him.

"Happy Christmas, mother," Julius replied, sincerely, leaning over to kiss her reverently on the cheek.

Estelle glanced over the room with an approving eye. "I'm so glad all of the Johnsons could join us this year. Angelina seems to have missed her brothers quite a bit."

"Mother," Julius groaned, good-naturedly, "stop behaving as if this wasn't your idea."

"Well, you have to admit that it was a good one. With her brother Jon dying last November it reminded us all a little too much of the war and how much we have all lost, and are still losing . . ." she trailed off, her eyes trained sadly on her favorite granddaughter as she sat stoically by the fire, just one of the millions of children who had been affected adversely by the Great War.

The death of Jonathon David Johnson the Third had affected the Montague clan just as strongly as it had affected the Johnson family. Jonathon was the oldest son of Lucille and Jonathon Johnson, Angelina's parents, and a highly celebrated Veteran of the Great War. He had suffered from injuries acquired during battle for many years after the end of the war and last November, after more than ten years of fighting, he finally succumbed to an infection that would never let him heal. He left behind a wife, two children, and a scar upon both families, one that seemed to deepen as more people from the War passed on, years later. His death had reminded Estelle of Cortland, whom she lost during the final battle, and her daughter-in-law, Phillipa -- who had been murdered accidentally by Death Eaters during a raid – who had left behind her second son Bernard and her favorite granddaughter, Helene, who at eighteen needed her mother more than ever. Jon's death had hit them so that Christmas was almost canceled, for both families, having only been salvaged for those young ones who needed something magical to lessen the sting of loss.

"It helps, mother," Julius said gently, interrupting the thoughts that were gnawing at his mother's soul, "it really does."

Estelle shook the sadness off so quickly that one who had not been watching would never know it was ever there, saying sternly, "Oh, Julius, you do need to discipline Angelica soon. Look at her, quite improper she is and I must admit she is too sweet to know how improper she is behaving right now. But it is your duty, as her father, and Angelina's, as her mother, to inform her of that. Why if your grandmere was alive she'd be quite appalled and insulted. "

"Mother, mother, mother," he replied, sipping softly of his Champagne, "Angelina and I have decided to let her innocence mold her, we have no desire to train her into some society darling before she even gets her wand."

Estelle tsked quite loudly before frowning at her third son's choice of drinks, remarking, "Dear, you are too much like your father."

"I know," he whispered, the sting of her words not being lost of his mother who quickly understood.

"Oh, dear, I did not mean it like _that_," she quickly explained, her dark eyes sweeping over her tall son apologetically. "I meant only that Cortland was the only non-alcoholic I ever knew to drink more than one glass on Christmas, that is all."

"I know, it is just that she came by the office last week and I've been irritated ever since," Julius admitted, as if his mother was a normal confidante of his.

Estelle fought the urge to ask her son if anything happened but she refused to start a row on Christmas. "What did she want? Did you tell Angelina?"

"She wanted nothing more than to gloat about her engagement to some _poor _Australian billionaire. Humph, good luck to him, I say," he snarled, gulping down the rest of his drink, "and I would not have payed her any attention except . . . she brought up what happened and I keep hearing her words in my head. _What sort of man cheats on his beautiful, faithful, adoring wife without so much of a second thought? You, Julius Montague, are not half the man that you have the world believing that you are._"

"And you are actually entertaining that whore's word?" Estelle asked, incredulously, realizing that he had not told Angelina.

"Mother, you have to admit she has a point," Julius replied, his green eyes meeting hers for the first time since she had come over.

"I do not," she answered quickly, taking her son's hand. "Julius you are _everything_ that the world believes you to be and more. You made a mistake, we all do, all that matters is that you learn from it and turn away from it, leave it in the past."

"I-I-I just keep thinking about Miles and Angelica," he whispered, the fear in his voice palpable, "and remembering how felt about father after I found out about his indiscretions."

"Don't you worry about that now, dear, they could never feel that way about you. The dynamics in our household were much different than the dynamics in this one. At this very moment the three most important people in your life adore you – Miles thinks you are nothing short of a god, Angelica thinks you made the heaven and the Earth for you two, and your wife, your wife, Julius, loves you more today than she ever has before – that is all that matters. So when that day comes they will be so full of this love they feel for you that they will be lucid enough to see it for what it was, a mistake. Your father made his mistakes a lifetime, which is quite, quite different, dear," Estelle said, a said smile lingering on her lips.

"Mother, I'm sorry," Julius retorted, sincerely noticing that glint in her eye that he had spent much of his life wishing he could get rid of.

Estelle gave a brilliant smile before reaching up to touch his cheek with her forefinger. "Don't be, dear, just look forward to watching your family grow. Don't brood over her words, she just wishes to see you affected, that is all. Now brighten up, dear, Father Christmas comes tonight."

Julius chuckled as his mother went to join her daughter-in-law who was having a conversation with one of Angelina's sister-in-laws. He nodded to himself, sitting his glass down, attempting to straighten himself up, it would not do for him to lose control tonight. Looking over at his wife and daughter, he decided to get some much needed air. He grabbed his coat and quickly snuck out onto the wide terrace, sighing softly as the slow onslaught of snow surrounded him. The beauty of his country home had never been lost on Julius, in fact the very image of it surrounded by snow had persuaded him to give it to Angelina as a present in their first year of marriage. Somehow the gardens still looked full of bloom as the snow steadily buried the flowers under a white blanket.

Julius walked slowly over to the stone rail, placed his hands firmly over the snow covered top and looked out onto his grounds. And before he could think twice he began to speak, saying, "Father Christmas, I know it has been years since I have confessed to any belief in you but I sure hope you aren't too busy to hear me tonight."

He was silent for a moment, the snow seemed stop and Julius looked up at the gray clouds that seemed to be stacked in the sky. Finding his voice again, he continued, "These past few years have been good to me, even last year, losing a brother-in-law made me appreciate my own brothers more. People say we have everything but it is all material. How I wish you could givethe world so much more, I wish every man could know a woman who could love him like my wife loves me. I wish you could halt every war before it ever gets started, I wish you could show politicians, and power hungry deviants, how the emotional devastation costs so much more than reconstructing any city. Oh, Father Christmas, you could have given me coal that year but you didn't, you gave me my family back and as a bonus you gave me Angelica. And for all of that, what do you get? You give so much and receive nothing in return, what motivates you?"

Julius trailed off as if he expected an answer when suddenly he felt a snowflake land on the tip off his nose. He smiled as he began to speak again, "I really didn't want anything personally this season, I just wanted to ask for a few things for my family. I want Miles to be the Quidditch player he's always dreamed of being, I know he's my son, therefore a Montague, and he can do whatever he wants, but I thought I'd ask you anyway he probably wants that more than he wants that family signet ring Ivan had made for him. And for my darling Angelica, I want her to smile, always, I want her to retain that innocence and humility, _even_ as a Montague. Somehow I believe she'll be the best of us yet. Now, Father Christmas, this is the wish that means the most to me, so if you can't give them all just give this one. I want my Angelina to have the world, whether it is with me or not, I want her every whim to be taken care of, mostly I want her happiness no matter the cost. I wish I could repay you, Father Christmas, you do seem to always come through every Christmas."

He was silent for a few moments before removing his frozen fingers from the snow, looking down at them in complete surprise before he felt a small hand grab them and attempt to give them heat. He looked over to be met with the warm eyes of his wife, even after almost fifteen years he got butterflies just being near her. Julius always found himself thinking, how could he even look at another woman, how had he reached that moment when he forgot what it felt like to love her.

Angelina smiled up at her tall, dark haired, husband, asking, "What brings you out here in this weather, darling?"

Julius smiled at her before looking out onto the ground again, answering, "I was just hoping for a glimpse of Father Christmas before we went to bed."

Angelina raised an eyebrow as he wrapped his left arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, she wrapped her right arm around his waist and laid her head on the snow covered coat that shielded him from the air. "What did you ask for this year?"

"The same thing I've asked for since our second year at Hogwarts," Julius replied, his gaze still on the bits of green that had not be covered by the endless barrage of snow.

"What? For Slytherin to win the House Cup," she joked, laughing at the playful tap on her arm.

"Don't provoke me, Angie," he chuckled, wondering how, in the midst of all the snow, he could feel so warm.

"Darling you didn't answer my question," Angelina remarked, a few seconds after they had fallen into a comfortable silence.

"What?" he asked, without annoyance, his green eyes looking pointedly at her full, pink, lips.

"I had asked what you asked Father Christmas for this year," she replied, batting her eyelashes, attempting to rid them of the flakes of snow but she wound up only making her vision even more blurry.

"The same thing I ask for every year," Julius whispered, finally meeting her eyes, "_you_."

Angelina gasped, her brown eyes widening, and her mouth settling in an 'o'. "Oh, Julius, you need not ask for me, you know I'm yours no matter what."

"I just don't want to lose you, is all," he replied as she turned to him, wrapping both her arms around his waist and pulling her petite frame closer to him, forcing him to do the same.

"What's wrong, Julius?" she asked, propping her chin on his chest so she could look up at him.

"Nothing, Angie," he answered, honestly, "I'm just taking this season to reflect upon my life."

"Darling, we have such a good life," she whispered, watching his green eyes cloud over, "who could ask for anything more?"

"You're happy?" he asked, he eyes questioning as he pulled her closer, noticing the tinge to her brown cheeks.

"How could I not be?" Angelina retorted, pulling his head down gently for a quick kiss.

"Happy Christmas, Angie," Julius crooned, almost as if he were saying 'I love you.'

"Happy Christmas, love," she remarked, with a smile, "now let us get out of this cold."

"Let's," he said simply, allowing himself to be led by the one present that ever meant anything to him.

Looking over his shoulder quickly, as he allowed Angelina to enter the parlor before him, he whispered, _"Father Christmas someday I shall repay you."_


	3. Installment 3: What Are You Doing New Ye

**Title:**This Christmas

**Category:** Romance

**Summary:** Sequel to 'It's Christmas'. The Fates of our six couples are revealed on Christmas Days years after the ending of 'It's Christmas'.

**DISCLAIMER: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author notes:** It is BEST if you read **It's Christmas** first but I don't think it will be mandatory. I'm actually planning to do a one-shot for every couple (even those who DID NOT get the girl) in **It's Christmas**. It's going be like a homage to the original story. The Theme of this Series of One-shots is my favorite Christmas music; every one-shot will be named for one of my favorite Christmas songs!

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**  
This Christmas:**

Installment 3: "What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?"

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**  
+ December 31 +**

* * *

Parvati Patil sighed loudly as she turned forcefully from the quickening breeze, the wind was beginning to give her bronze cheeks a natural blush. She wrapped her arms around her petite torso and began to talk to herself, it was the only way she could rationalize what possessed her to actually be standing where she was standing on the last night of the year, in the middle of a snow shower. 

"I am beautiful, I am intelligent, I am successful, I am charming, I am humble, I am – I have," she whispered, as pieces of her wispy black hair were forced into her face by the wind, "I have been tricked by a _snake_."

Parvati was indeed all of those things and it never took people long to see it. At twenty-nine-years-old she had filled out in all the right places, her hair and makeup were always flawless, and her walk could stop men, and women as well, in their tracks. She had been a Healer at St. Mungo's for nine years and was extremely good at her job, life since Hogwarts, the Great War, and her previous engagement had forced her to mature. And she indeed felt like she had been tricked by a snake, an infamous snake at that.

Draco Malfoy had been a thorn in her side, and a constant ache in her chest, since their first date, six years before, at the Ministry of Magic's Annual Christmas Ball. He was the reason she was standing in the center of this park on New Year's Eve, surrounded by nothing more than snow, trees, and an iced over pond. He had asked her to meet him there forty-five minutes before the New Year and, although it was tough getting off work on one of the busiest nights of the year, she made it to the very spot he had asked her to meet him. It was a spot that meant a lot to them both but at that very moment it was last place she wanted to be. It had taken six months for Draco to ask her to be his girlfriend, formally, and it occurred in the very spot she stood in, the only difference was that five and a half years before she was standing there in the month of June, in the mist of sunshine not snow.

The chill that she felt was nothing new to her, it was only because of love that she stayed with Draco sometimes, and six years into their relationship the breeze was warmer than some of the days she had shared with him. Their relationship had become stagnated sometime ago, with her love attempting to pry from him the thing that haunted him and held him back from truly loving her. Her parents hated the match, as did her sister, Padma, and best friend, Lavender Brown. But none of their opinions ever seemed to matter much to Parvati; yet, tonight their voices were all that she could hear.

She looked down at her watch, as she whispered to herself, "What in bloody hell am I doing here?"

"Waiting on me, I supposed," came the hushed reply from behind her.

His voice forced her to turn back toward the wind, her instinct wanting to embrace him but her vexation forced her simply to scowl at him. Her eyebrows lowered as she retorted, "You're _late._"

"I know," Draco said, as his own hair surrendered to the breeze, "and I am sorry. Truth is, I almost did not come tonight."

"Draco –" Parvati snapped, her eyes widening in utter disbelief that he could have even thought of leaving her there, alone, on New Years Eve.

"I know, I know," he interrupted, holding his hands out defensively before her, "but I am here now."

"You asked me to come out here," she said, attempting to keep her anger contained, "this was _not _my idea."

"I know and there is a good reason why I asked you to meet me here," Draco began, as he took hold to her sleeve-covered elbow and led her to a bench on the other side of the pond.

"Are you going to let me in on this _good reason_, Draco?" Parvati asked as they sat on the bench and the snow began to taper off a little.

"Yes," Draco began, as he took her hand, his silver eyes searching for some comfort out in the Winter Wonderland before them.

Parvati was silent, although she was still fuming inside, her brown eyes focused on the porcelain skin of his face. This was the man she had fell in love with and nothing would deter her from him, even his carelessness, she was determined to have him love her in return. It was an issue that Padma often antagonized her with: how could she have such faith in a man that had barely told her that he loved her in six years? It was a question that she often asked herself but something inside told her that there was no other choice. Draco would love her in his own time. It was a fact that she chose to deal with, no matter how sad a fact that it may have been.

"I am sure that you are well aware that in life there are complications and interruptions," he said, his hand tightening its grip on hers, "and it seems that life was entirely too willing to place those complications and interruptions into our relationship. Am I wrong?"

She tilted her head, while giving a sarcastic chuckle. "No, you are quite right."

"Exactly," Draco replied, as he took a deep breath, "and some of those complications I have never really told you about. I know six years is a long time to be in a relationship that has no sure end, I know it is difficult for a woman, such as you, to have no promise of a ring . . . let alone love. And for that I apologize, but it's just that I was afraid for so long. . . ."

"Afraid?" Parvati questioned, her countenance expressing her confusion, she had never heard him use the word, let alone ever hint at being apprehensive of anything.

"Yes, I, Draco Malfoy, was indeed afraid," he answered, as he finally turned to look at her. "However, this fear was more crippling than I ever let on. I was so afraid to turn away from how I felt about her, I was so afraid if I truly let go then I might miss a chance . . . I might miss a chance to win her heart. I know it sounds awful, I held on to hope that I could win my best friend's wife but I was so afraid that I couldn't love anyone like I loved her."

"You have feelings for Hermione!" Parvati exclaimed, her stomach was twisted in knots so much that the words barely escaped her lips.

Parvati's mind began to wonder to every distant moment that they ever had. Was that the reason he could barely stand to look at her some nights? Was Hermione the woman he dreamed about while his arms were wrapped around her? Was she the thing that kept such distance between them? Was Hermione sleeping with her boyfriend? The very thought brought tears to her eyes, could it be that ever day they spent together was just an act? She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to hit him but she was silent and he went on.

"I had feelings for Hermione, years and years ago, they are now nothing more than the past. I was just too frightened to move away from the familiarity of loving her to ever allow myself to love you completely," Draco retorted, seeing the myriad of emotions in her eyes he gripped her hand tight. "She and I never had an affair, even back at Hogwarts, it has always been Blaise and her, a fact that will never change. I just couldn't get past all that she symbolized to me, I was too afraid to leave that era of my life."

"Draco, do you still love her?" she asked, her sorrow lacing every word.

He shook his head, a small smirk laying up his perfect lips. "I thought I did but it was just a form of hero worship. I will always be grateful to her, I will always care for her, but I do not still love her."

Parvati couldn't stop the tears that fell from her brown eyes, she looked at her lap as she asked, "You asked me here to confess of your love of some other woman?"

"That's part of it," he answered, as he reached out to wipe a stray tear from cheek, "I wanted everything out in the open so that we could move forward."

"Oh, Draco, it seems that we haven't moved anywhere in years," she sighed, moving her face from his caress, "why start now?"

"Why not?" he retorted simply, his eyes sweeping over her with more emotion than she had ever seen.

"B-B-Because," she stammered, emotion halting the successful exit of her words from her lips, "I didn't know about this – you and her. I didn't know and now, now. . . ."

"Now?" Draco repeated, his eyebrow raising inquisitively. "You're having doubts about us?"

"I just wonder what brought you here tonight," she whispered, softly, her big brown eyes peering at him with more questions than she could verbalize.

"Blaise," he answered, meeting her eyes with such force it almost blew her away, "I told him about how I have been holding myself back from you and he told me that I might as well tell you what I really wanted to say to you and stop being such a bloody asshole about it. So after I had a good conversation with my best friend I asked you to meet me here, tonight."

"So what do you want to say to me, Draco?" Parvati asked, tears still streaming down her face.

"Parvati Patil," Draco began, as he took her hand and fastened his eyes to hers, "Merlin only knows what I would be without you. For six years you have loved me, taken care of me, walked beside me, fought with me, fought _for _me, and never gave up on me. I don't know what I did to deserve you but I am so glad that I have you."

Her tears began to fall faster, here lips quivering at the words she had waited so long to hear. She gently placed her free hand on top of his, as she whispered, "You are everything to me, Draco."

"I know," he replied, his free hand reaching to wipe the tears from her cheeks, "and I love you just the same, Parvati."

Suddenly she was pulled into an embrace that forced every tear, that she was attempting to hold in, to the surface. Her arms were wrapped around his neck as she sobbed, it was like an eruption of every feeling that she had held in for six years, no longer would she have to endure the worst in order to have the man she loved. She whispered in his neck, as her tears subsided, "I didn't think you really loved me."

"I didn't think I could," Draco replied, his arms wrapped around her slender waist and his chin laying protectively on her cheek. "I can and I do, Parvati."

"Oh," Parvati cried, inhaling the scent of his cologne, suddenly thinking of the time, "I am sure the New Year has already come."

He chuckled. "I am sure it has but I'd rather bring this year in asking you to marry me than kissing you at the stroke of midnight."

"What?" she gasped, pushing herself away from him, so she could look in his eyes, the surprise written on her face.

"You heard me," Draco smirked, his gray eyes looking lovingly into hers, "I think it is time we moved forward, six years is long enough. I am ready to make you my wife, what do you say?"

"I say," Parvati answered, with little thought, "yes, yes, _yes_! I would love to spend the rest of my life with you!"

"Happy New Years, darling," he whispered, pulling her in for a kiss, his heart finally free from everything that had ever held him back from her.


	4. Installment 4: Christmas Time

**Title:**This Christmas

**Category:** Romance

**Summary:** Sequel to 'It's Christmas'. The Fates of our six couples are revealed on Christmas Days years after the ending of 'It's Christmas'.

**DISCLAIMER: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author notes:** It is BEST if you read **It's Christmas** first but I don't think it will be mandatory. I'm actually planning to do a one-shot for every couple (even those who DID NOT get the girl) in **It's Christmas**. It's going be like a homage to the original story. The Theme of this Series of One-shots is my favorite Christmas music; every one-shot will be named for one of my favorite Christmas songs!

* * *

**This Christmas:**

Installment 4: "Christmas Time"

* * *

+ December 25 +

* * *

Here it was again, her favorite season, complete with her favorite day. The gray clouds, the white snow, the decorations, the jingle in everyone's tone, the joy of giving and receiving, the family, the noise, and the memories of Christmas' long gone. It never failed to amaze her, the moment England began to slip into its holiday frenzy it seemed that nothing could pull her from her optimistic haze, it had always been like that. Well, except for that time Harry had the bright idea of stringing lights, like those on Muggle Houses, and almost broke his neck. And then there was that year her first born, Noah, had eaten an entire box of Chocolate Frogs and spent the holidays with an awful stomach ache. Oh, and there was the year her youngest, Emily, had received that cursed Music Box from her nefarious uncles – that year reminded her strongly of her years at Hogwarts – and boy how she and Harry had made them pay for that mistake. Honestly, in retrospect, her Holiday seasons had not been the same since before she married Harry but she had known that from the moment she said 'I Do' her life would never be the same. 

And suddenly she was pulled from her reverie by two rising voices. "You are such a selfish cow! You can't even fit the bloody jumper so why should I let a perfectly good piece of clothing go to waste on the likes of _you_?"

Ginny rolled her eyes before quickly searching the yard for her husband, only he could interject in these confrontations between their daughters without having to yell. Sometimes she wondered had she secretly been impregnated by a Slytherin, with her oldest daughter exhibiting quite a few traits from that side of the spectrum, it had shocked her entire family when Lily, her second child, had been sorted into Slytherin House; yet, the Sorting Hat's decision was no longer questioned after a few displays of Lily's infamous temper. Lily, at sixteen-years-old, was the most compassionate, intelligent, and charming girl until she was slighted, it would be then that her Slytherin traits would manifest themselves. Ginny always joked that Lily was the product of Harry's many intimate encounters with Voldemort, there was truly no precedent for Lily in her family; nevertheless, the tall, slender, brunette, was the apple of her father's eye, and the only person with Weasley heritage to be in Slytherin House.

"Cow? Ha," the Potter's youngest daughter, Emily, laughed, "it's not my looking glass that suggests a diet every morning! You wearing _my_ jumper is like old cousin Dudley fitting into a bikini, fat chance, fat _arse_!"

Somewhere, deep inside, she longed to scream at both girls for using such language but after years of these run-ins she knew it was better for her to let the argument run its course or let Harry interfere, she would rather not become irritated as well. She moved from her windowsill to the foot of the stairs just in time to see her twelve-year-old yanking a beige jumper from her sister's dainty hands before turning and stalking back toward her room, indignantly. And just before Emily slammed her door, as her mother knew she would, Ginny decided that just for the sake of motherhood she would say something. "Girls! I'm warning you, I will not have this behavior at your grandmother's house, I suggest you two solve this before I come up there!"

"But Mum," Lily retorted, running the top of the stairs her long brown hair flowing behind her, Ginny could see her green eyes blazing from where she stood, "she –"

"No buts," Ginny interjected, her voice stern and her bright brown eyes challenging her daughter to contradict her, "your father and Lucas aren't back yet and I won't listen to it another moment. So I suggest you find another jumper and leave Emily to hers."

"But Mum," Lily tried again, this time her eyes softening, trying to use that charm that always worked on her father, "she can't fit it and she hasn't worn it since you bought it!"

"That's neither hear nor there," Ginny replied, now highly irritated, as she glanced over at the onslaught of snow outside her window, "you can and you will wear something else."

"Yes, mother," Lily grumbled, as she turned from the top of the steps and made her way back to her room, barely managing not to slam the door.

Ginny rolled her eyes as she turned away from the steps and leaned against the adjacent wall with a weary sigh. It was surely Christmas Day once again but it was nothing at all like the Christmas days that had once brought tears to her eyes. She was pressing fifty and the strain of having teenagers was wearing on her, she chuckled to herself, thinking of what her mother had said when she struggled to tell a four-year-old Noah about his upcoming sibling. _No one told you two children to wait so long to have a family, this is entirely your doing. _And it was, having three teenagers at this age was all her fault, she could not fathom the idea of giving up her sacred holiday with her sacred love to anyone. Christmas was their time, had always been, their wedding day had pushed so close to Christmas that Molly had to threaten her in order for them to schedule it a week before, in order to accommodate their friends and family. _There is no need to intrude upon everyone else's holiday with your silliness, Ginerva._ Her mother had fussed and fussed and nagged until Ginny finally set December 18th as the day and even with Molly's interference the season's hold became stronger.

"Mum!" called a breathless tenor, as her front door opened and closed, sending a gust of wind and particles of snow into the foyer.

Ginny smiled at the sound and quickly made her way out into the foyer to see her first child, her first son, her first real accomplishment, standing in front of the door looking more handsome than she had ever realized. Noah Potter was tall, even for Harry's son, his short strawberry blond hair was cut perfectly, with that wayward piece that always reminded people whose son he was, and he had this brilliant pair of brown eyes, it was a brown that Ginny still had a hard time describing. He was another reason she loved this season, he was two and a half years into his Mediwizard training and could only come home for few a days at the end of term, he was partially the reason she counted the days until Christmas.

The moment he saw her he pulled her into a gentle embrace, Ginny tightened her hold for a moment, simply trying to hold onto the precious child he once was. He brought joy to her heart today but only a few years ago the former Gryffindor Chaser would have been part of the havoc in her home. He and Lily could start some trouble when they got together; however, unlike his sister, Lily, he adored Emily and did everything in his power to appease her. Noah pulled away from his mother with a smile, he had always had something of a connection with his mother, something that Ginny relished.

"How's Christmas coming along? Are we ready for grandmum's yet?" Noah asked, knowing that his mother was quickly falling into her memories again.

"You look good, Noa," Ginny whispered, just a little bit sad, as she turned away from her son just quickly enough to force back the impending tears. "And Christmas around here never changes, the girls are about to kill each other, your father and Lucas left three hours ago to go leave a gift at his Aunt's Nursing home and I have exhausted my efforts to wait patiently for them."

"So everything is good here?" he replied with a chuckle, pushing his bag into a corner, as he always did even though later, as they flooed home, his mother would have his head for it.

"It's perfect," she answered, making her way back toward the living area. "I see you didn't bring your girlfriend with you?"

"Ex girlfriend, mother, ex, "Noah corrected, pulling off his robes to reveal a fitted jumper and muggle Jeans, Ginny had never noticed how much he had filled out, "she is now shagging someone else, as she had a habit of doing while we were together."

"Well, then you are well rid of her," Ginny said, her distaste for the young witch shining through, "it was the best Christmas gift she could have given you."

"Mum," Noah chuckled, inhaling a scent that he had always associated with his mother, this mix of pumpkins and chocolate, scents of his childhood, "you aren't disguising your motherly bias very well."

"Did you expect me to?" Ginny asked, as they entered the kitchen and she pulled down a saucer, preparing to serve him a piece of her Pumpkin pie. "You know I have always thought that you and Sienna would make a darling couple."

"Mum," he groaned, before taking a big bite of pie, his mother always brought up Sienna, "me and Aunt Hermione's daughter, that's just . . . _weird_. Plus, last I saw her she was dating some bloke by the last name of MacMillian, he just graduated from St. Mungo's Mediwizard program."

Ginny laughed softly to herself, shaking her head as she handed her son a napkin. "If this MacMillian is anything like his father, he will never be man enough to hold on to any woman that has Zabini and Granger blood. It just is not possible."

Noah did nothing more than shoot her a look as he finished his piece of pie. Pumpkin pie had been the first thing she had watched her son love throughout the twenty years of his life, she had noticed his affinity for her pie when he was just two precious years old. Ginny saw the man in him now, he stood up with such ease before he placed his saucer in the sink, he leaned down and kissed her cheek with sincerity, not tradition, and laughed a laugh that stirred an urge to cry within her.

"Ah," Noah sighed, looking around the kitchen he had seen expand as their family expanded, "there is nothing like being home."

Ginny smiled, she reached up and brushed an invisible piece of dust from his shoulder, saying, "There is nothing like you being home."

"Lil and Em still up there pouting, eh?" he asked, looking toward the stairs as the sound of something closing loudly made its way downstairs.

"Now what made you think they wouldn't be?" Ginny retorted, before turning to mutter a cleaning spell on the saucer.

"Well, I'm going to go up and see them," he announced, like she wasn't expecting him to go visit the two women who loved him just as fiercely as she did, "you okay by yourself?"

"Please go bring some noise back into my home," she ordered, looking back only to see the slight smile on his face, oddly enough, at that moment, he looked like the father people always said he looked nothing like.

"Count it done," Noah replied laughingly, before he took off running up the stairs he called to her, "I love you, Mum."

"I love you, too, Noah," Ginny replied, with a sigh as he ran up the stairs two at a time. This was the reason she loved this season more and more every year, her family never ceased to enhance the magic of Christmas.

No sooner had she placed the saucer back in the cabinet came a familiar yet warming sound. "Happy Christmas, dear."

She smiled as she slightly turned her head toward her husband and his look alike, fourteen-year-old, Lucas Potter, as they entered the kitchen door after their three and a half hour visit to Petunia Dursley's Nursing home. "Happy Christmas, darling, how was your visit this year?"

"Better," Harry replied, making his way over to kiss his wife, before moving over to the table to have a piece of pie, "she actually saw us this year. It went better than I had expected."

"Mum!" Lucas whined, as she made her way over to her youngest son, took the edge his chin and kissed his rosy cheek.

"I love you too, Lucas," Ginny chuckled, before she moved to pouring him a glass of hot cider as he went and sat at the table with his father. It was one of his many idiosyncracies, when everyone else was drinking Hot Chocolate, Warm Butterbeer, or Eggnog her youngest son wanted warm cider.

Lucas Potter was physically everything that his father was at fourteen, right down to the glasses, excluding the scar, but beyond that he had an outward confidence that had taken his father far more years to cultivate, Ginny had always attributed that to the Weasley in him. Lucas was everything his father wanted him to be, almost his shadow, which sometimes worried Ginny. She had always prayed that Harry never be disappointed in his youngest son, simply because all Lucas wanted was his father's approval and as long as he had it he was happy.

She loved Lucas for his hero worship, she saw it the very moment the Mediwizard had allowed Harry to hold his second son. Lucas had a bond with his father that no one could explain. Christmas was their day as well, it was the one day that Lucas and Harry could spend together without any other children, he was the only one of her kids that ever went to see their great-aunt Petunia, it had been like that since Lucas learned to walk. Going to see Petunia Dursley was simply an act of conviction on the part of her husband and Lucas went because if his father felt strongly about it then he would back him up. It was a subject that had spurned many discussions in the Potter household once Petunia was placed in the Nursing home after Vernon had died. She could remember the first Christmas when Harry had said:_my Mum would never forgive me if I left her sister in that place to rot alone. I have to do this for my mum, she'd want me to do this_. And when he brought up the subject of his parents Ginny was sure to let it slide, for she could never have imagined life without her own parents.

"Don't spoil her, Noa, she is already the most annoying person –" Lily was saying as she entered the kitchen and stopped as she spotted her father. "Daddy, you're back! So can we leave now?"

"We'll leave in a little while," Harry smiled, a loving yet knowing smile, she may have been the apple of his eye but he knew who she was, as his oldest daughter came and sat on the opposite side of Lucas at the table, "have a bit of pie to hold you over."

"How is Aunt Petunia getting along?" Lily asked, as her dad cut her a piece of pie, she didn't care much for her surly muggle Aunt but she never failed to ask her father how she was doing.

"Fine, just as spiteful as always but it is obvious that she misses having a real Christmas," Harry replied honestly before looking at his oldest son, who had just sat next to youngest daughter. "Noah, how are you studies going?"

"Afternoon, Dad," Noah said, Noah and Harry had the most professional of relationships but the outward appearance hid the fondness that each held for the other, "they're going well, only two more years to go."

"I know," replied Harry, as he picked up his mug, "I was talking to Hermione and she was telling me that you and Sienna were top of the class."

"Yes, sir, you know Sienna Zabini would be at no other place," Noah answered, flippantly, as he passed Emily the pie so she could cut a piece.

"Well, I'm glad you're up there with her, Noa," Harry retorted, giving a respectful nod to his son, "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Da," he replied, a slight blush rising up his neck. It was not the first time Harry had told his son that but it always achieved the same result, Noah always seemed to be a tab bit embarrassed by the exchange. A reaction Hermione attributed to their father being who he is, Hermione always said that their father's word could begin or end a war and to hear the man that the entire world worshiped adore them individually was something of an extraordinary experience for the children. The psychologist in Hermione always said that Harry helped her children become some of the most well rounded that Britain would ever see.

Ginny watched the scene with a light heart, this was why Christmas was so special to her, this is what made Christmas so magical, her very own family. She looked over to the shortest head at the table and noticed her brown eyes watching the scene just as she was. Emily Potter saw the same magic in the setting as she did; although, she was only twelve Emily had an insight that many adults did not have. She was the most Hufflepuff – just, fiercely loyal, and very empathetic -- of all of her children but there was one trait that had her destined to be a Gryffindor, Emily was entirely too courageous, nothing scared the girl. Somehow the reckless part of her had reached out to Noah's need to protect and bound the two together for all eternity. Ginny chuckled to herself at the thought of Emily dating, any man dumb enough to try it would be the talk of many dinner discussions because if Harry didn't scare him off Noah would.

"Mum," Emily called, turning around to face her mother with a smile that confirmed that she had been thinking along the same lines as Ginny, "you don't want a piece?"

"No thanks, Em. I made that just for all of you, I don't feel much like Pumpkin pie right now," Ginny answered with a gentle smile, running her fingers over her youngest daughter's strawberry blond hair.

No sooner had she said that than her husband made it over to where she stood, wrapping his arm around her waist, in an attempt to support her. His eyes searched hers for something she wasn't saying and when they found nothing he asked, "Are you okay?"

Ginny gazed up into the green eyes she had known to love the moment she saw them, she whispered, with a smile, "I'm fine. I just want to sit back and marvel at the gift that Christmastime has brought for us."

"Thank you, Dear," Harry said, as the noise at the table behind them began to escalate, he turned and pulled her closer as both his hands rested on the small of her back.

"For what?" she asked, her head tilting to one side, her silky red hair, now laced with gray, moving as her head moved.

"For giving me a Christmas that was just as special to me as it was to you," he answered, just as she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his back, laying her head on his chest. "Now I know why you love this season so."

"I love it for the same reason I love you," Ginny whispered, her eyes closed, "it has brought me nothing but joy, year after year."


	5. Installment 5: Christmas is Coming

**Title: **This Christmas

**Category:** Romance

**Summary:** Sequel to 'It's Christmas'. The Fates of our six couples are revealed on Christmas Days years after the ending of 'It's Christmas'. Not completely DH's compatible.

**DISCLAIMER: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author notes:** It is BEST if you read **It's Christmas** first but I don't think it will be mandatory. I'm actually planning to do a one-shot for every couple (even those who DID NOT get the girl) in **It's Christmas**. It's going be like a homage to the original story. The Theme of this Series of One-shots is my favorite Christmas music; every one-shot will be named for one of my favorite Christmas songs!

* * *

**This Christmas:**

Installment 5: "Christmas is Coming"

* * *

**+ December 24 +**

* * *

"Well, if you had only taken off when I suggested it then we wouldn't be doing all this last minute shopping," grumbled Ronald Weasley as his wife pulled him into yet another store. His arms were full of packages, his pockets were full of shrunken gifts, and he could not shake the thought that his knees were about to give out on him.

"Oh, Ron, do stop it," Pansy retorted nonchalantly, as they made their way into the crowded _Quality Quidditch Supplies _shop. "It really isn't that bad and you must help me pick out something for the boys. I just don't know what they are into these days."

"Just be grateful it isn't pot and other nefarious activities, Pans," he snapped, as he was elbowed by another suffering man who was holding more packages than he could count.

"Ronald, that's not funny, in the least," she replied, sending him a disapproving glare. Her twin sons were her pride and joy, it was a Weasley family joke that they were the reason she was sorted into Slytherin. Because only the Sorting Hat really knew what protecting her children could bring out of Pansy Parkinson-Weasley. She could be a beast when it came to her boys, including her husband.

"You know, Pans," Ronald began, as they approached the display of the newest edition of the Firebolt, "I don't really think Henry is going to want this new Firebolt, he's more of Cleansweep kind of guy."

"But Cleansweep's only new product for the holidays is a Bludger set," Pansy replied, with a frown, "And I don't think that is a fitting gift at all."

"How about we buy the new Firebolt for Thomas and we can go invest in something else for Henry?" Ron suggested, hoping that she would see the Leaky Cauldron and beg for a nice glass of Tea, a truffle, a warm biscuit, anything to get him off his feet.

Every year it was the same. Every year Pansy would wait for the stealthy approach of Christmas before she would even begin to realize that she would have to actually go out to fill the spaces between the Christmas trees and the floor. And every year she would leave the boys at someone's house so she and Ron could trapeze the city of London -- and sometimes the continent of Europe -- to find the perfect gifts for their family and friends. It was a job that she did not trust her husband to do alone but it was also a job that she could barely find time to actually do. As she hastily approached her fiftieth birthday she was more than secure in her job at _Gladrags_ International headquarters, as well as her position as the head of the remaining Parkinson family fortune. She and Ron had spent ten Christmas' without each other and not one apart in twenty-two years since Pansy had given up hiding their relationship from the world.

It was that very fact that kept Ron smiling on days like this. It was this season that had made his dreams come true and that gift, twenty years before, made the Holidays all the more magical to him. Somehow he understood his sister's love for the season and embraced it in his own way; this time of year was all about family for Ron, his own, Pansy's, and most importantly his two best friends in the world. The moment Thanksgiving rolled around Ron would find himself making excuses to have everyone over or even just make impromptu visits to people he had not spoken to in ages. It was something about the season that brought out the warmness in Ronald Weasley's heart.

"Henry would probably much rather have a Potions set or something, wouldn't he?" she commented with a smile, turning to her husband before grabbing a Firebolt for Thomas.

"He'd love it," Ron answered, this time leading her to the counter for check-out, "it'll be a nice diversion from the jumper that he might get from my mum."

"Might?" Pansy laughed. "After fifteen years of receiving a jumper from their grandmother I think Thomas and Henry have both learned not to expect anything less."

Ron chuckled. "Well, nothing makes my mum more giving than Christmas."

"Well, you'd think after five children and numerous grandchildren that she would tire of making all those jumpers every single holiday," she replied as they left the shop and made their way back into the crowed street of Diagon Alley.

He shrugged, struggling not to drop the packages under the weight of the Firebolt. "It's her signature gift. I think we'd be disturbed if she didn't give them."

Suddenly Pansy stopped, turning to her husband with an expression of horror on her face. She began to feverishly search the boxes for something that Ron obviously could not see. Frowning, he asked, "What in the blazes are you looking for, Pans?"

"I can't believe I forgot!" she exclaimed, frustration filling her face.

Ron studied his wife before inquiring any further and fought an urge to smile. There was something charming about her now that was not there twenty years ago, something that made him watch her intently whenever she was around, something that made him seek out the gray locks that were slowly taking over her blond mane, something that made his heart long for her each and every second of every day. The snow, which had been barely noticeable before, began to increase its descent, causing Ron to finally speak, "What'd you forget?"

"Fred's flowers," she answered simply before turning to make her way toward _Francine's Fancy Flower Shop_ which was right next door to _Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor_.

Ron wordlessly followed his wife. He never chose to take an active part in picking out the flowers that his sons and Pansy took to Fred's gravesite every year. Even thirty plus years later it was still too definite for him, it was still making it too real for him. And without the dangerous nature of denial, Ron chose to just ignore the painful tribute to his fallen brother. He would go to the site, stand twenty kilometers from the grave, watch his wife and sons remember, and all the while wonder what Christmas would have been like if Fred had made it through the battle of Hogwarts. It was only in that moment that the season did not look so bright but it was also in that moment that he could feel Fred pushing him to make the season great for his boys, just like their Uncle would have done.

It was also that tradition that made him love his wife a little bit more. It was at her insistence that they make their own little trip to see Fred without the rest of the clan. In the beginning, he was staunchly against the visit, he could not imagine how he could make it through one visit a year yet alone two. But Pansy was a willful woman and she took their eight-month-old twins to meet their Uncle Fred on the day before Christmas fourteen years ago and the family had been going every Christmas Eve since. And the first Christmas morning George walked into the Burrow and pulled Pansy into the saddest hug he had ever witnessed he knew it was the right thing to do; somehow he knew he would never be able to let his brother spend another holiday season without a visit from his youngest brother.

He stood outside the flower shop as she ran in to pick out some flowers that would survive the winter onslaught with the smallest help from magic. It was something about real flowers that Pansy insisted made it a little more special. They would go right before sunset tonight, leaving only the flowers and whatever the boys chose to leave their uncle. He struggled to force back the rising tide of tears; it was the very juxtaposition of the season that made him look up into the falling snow, his heart warm but aching. Only his family knew what it meant to feel the two so strongly at the same moment.

A few moments later Pansy emerged holding a package that she decided to hold on to herself. "Now, I think we only have one more stop to make. Where do you find decent potions sets these days?"

Ron attempted to clear his head of thoughts of Fred. It was Christmas, you do not mourn on Christmas you celebrate. He had to remind himself of that every year and every year he did his best to celebrate the life of his brother. He moved to stand beside his wife, leaning over to kiss her cheek, while delicately balancing the packages in his hands. "I love you, Pans."

She gave him a sweet smirk, her eyes running over his face, sometimes she could swear he had never aged from that seventeen-year-old she used to know. "I know. Now, about this Potions set . . . ."

"The Cauldron Shop has just finished its renovation so it should probably have some new products," Ron answered. "Or we could try the Apothecary; they should definitely have some nice sets. I know Harry bought Lucas a gold set from there on his birthday."

"Sounds like a plan," she retorted as she turned to make her way to the Cauldron shop.

Ron sighed; glad to see her going toward the Leaky Cauldron, so at least maybe, eventually, he could get a warm drink and a chair to rest his weary body in. It was almost Christmas and he could feel the warmness from his heart taking over every inch of his body. No matter how long Christmas Eve always turned out to be or how horrible a shopper his wife always turned out to be or how painful it was to go visit his brother in such a cold place it could not ease the excitement that was steadily rising.

He would have never imagined that his life would turn out this way, not in a million years. Who would have ever imagined that he and Pansy Parkinson would fall in love? Who would have ever seen that after Voldemort life could be this normal? He would have never believed that he would be spending Christmas without Fred. Or that he would be raising twin sons that loved Quidditch and Potions equally, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Who would have imagined that at forty-nine years old that his wife would be talking about having another child? Somehow he chalked it all up to the magic of Christmas. Nothing else in the world, since he was a little boy, had seemed so powerful to him. It was always in these reflective moments that he understood the Muggle understanding of Magic. Everything seemed like a miracle during this season, everything.

Ron sighed as he followed his wife into the Cauldron shop, it was almost over, and the shopping was almost done. Christmas was only a few hours away and he could not wait. It was almost time for breakfast with his boys, lunch at the Parkinson's, and Christmas dinner at the Burrow. It was almost time to see his grandparents and hold small talk with some Pansy's well to do family members. It was almost time to watch the excitement on the boys face as they realize their mother found everything that they asked for this year. It was almost time to see his nieces and nephews again, to embrace his siblings, and reminisce with Harry as if they did not spend the past twenty Christmas' doing the same thing. It was almost time for Hermione and her family to come by after dinner was served for a short visit after they return from Blaise's family château in Italy. Christmas was right around the corner and it was making his heart sing!


	6. Installment 6: Christmas Letter

**Title: **This Christmas

**Category:** Romance

**Summary:** Sequel to 'It's Christmas'. The Fates of our six couples are revealed on Christmas Days years after the ending of 'It's Christmas'. Not completely DH's compatible.

**DISCLAIMER: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author notes:** It is BEST if you read **It's Christmas** first but I don't think it will be mandatory. I'm actually planning to do a one-shot for every couple (even those who DID NOT get the girl) in **It's Christmas**. It's going be like homage to the original story. The Theme of this Series of One-shots is my favorite Christmas music; every one-shot will be named for one of my favorite Christmas songs!

This chapter was inspired by a country-western song of the same name by Reva McIntire. If you are a country music fan and you've never heard this Christmas song please check it out!

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**This Christmas:**

Installment 6: "Christmas Letter"

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**+ December 25 +**

_My Dearest Marietta,_

_Merry Christmas, my darling. Again I've come to send you my love after a long year with many happenings, I do not wish for you to ever be forgotten. It is the time for my memory to go back in time to this night, this very Christmas night, that we went visited Lewis-with-Harris for the Holidays. Every year I return to that that cold, crisp, air and those lush flatlands. It was not Christmas as we had always spent it but it was Christmas none the less. It seems that writing you every year compensates for my inability to stand at your grave too long. I know you understand, for why should I stand around and talk when you are here with me every moment of every day?_

_Gwendolyn has finally seen a huge investment made toward her charity for research on Vanishing Sickness. Some purebred family lost its matriarch a few months ago to the disease and now sees that the disease is a crucial fight to fight. The entire family is just immensely pleased, that one donation is more than the charity saw in its first five years of existence. Marietta, it will be because of you that the love of some one else's life will be saved. Sometimes it is hard to step foot into that research center, sometimes it is frustrating to hear that weeks have gone by without the Healers and Scientists discovering anything but I, well we all, know in the end it will be completely worth it._

_It's strange to think that it was on Christmas day that I found out that you would be leaving me. I do not think that I will ever return to that cottage on Lewis-with-Harris but I will never forget that holiday, ever. I used to think to myself that if I had one wish I would change everything but now, years later, I do not think I could be that selfish. I could not bear to see you live on in pain and if you had never suffered so Gwen would have never took a chance on a Wizard -- and Ernie Macmillan at that. Their oldest just went off to Hogwarts a few months ago; he turned out to be a Hufflepuff, of course. I have never seen my sister so happy. And without you I would never have met my Hannah. _

_And my family is doing quite well, as you have seen to for all these years. Hannah is a wonderful wife and companion, sometimes I believe that you allowed me to find her. Some days I cannot see how I would make it without her, a feeling that I felt so strongly while I was losing you. I used to think there would never be another Christmas for me. But then she came and slowly I began to heal, slowly I could see again. And the moment my vision was clear I saw her. Pamela is growing quite nicely, we are just waiting on her to learn to control her magic but my heart tells me my daughter is going to be something great. Another Hermione Granger I figure, I see it already. And Mark, well Mark is a lot like his father, an admirer of Football and artistry alike. He will make us proud as well, this I am sure. _

_Seamus and Lavender finally added a little bundle of joy to their cozy little home. I did not think it would ever happen but leave it to Seamus to be almost Dumbledore's age before bringing a child into the world. He is such a proud dad and Lavender is a wonderful mother. They named her Marietta. I could not believe it. The moment I held her I knew she was just as special as her namesake. You will be her guardian angel won't you? She's going to need you with her willful spirit. She's just learning to pull up but I see she's going to be one that we will need to keep an eye on. Miss Marietta Finnagin is truly a gift to her family and ours. It was her first Christmas today and what a day it was._

_There is truly nothing like seeing the Holidays from the eyes of a child. I can remember the joy and pure excitement that used to radiate from Mark's eyes when the Holidays rolled around. And nothing can compare with the love Pamela has for this time of year, the moment she feels snow coming you cannot wipe the grin from her little face. But I had not felt the season so strongly in years until Marietta laughed her way through our caroling and I witnessed the widening of her eyes at the very sight of holiday decorations. Seamus described it as the most peaceful feeling in the world, I agree. There is truly peace in the eyes of a child on Christmas morn._

_I would never have imagined, all those many holidays ago, that I would ever get the opportunity to share in this kind of joy. I really cannot tell you what day, or what time, the veil of grief lifted but it did. And the moment it did I could see the beauty of every snowflake, of every breeze, of the excitement of the holidays, of the love, the camaraderie; it was like I could really __**feel**__ again. Marietta, here I am again seeing the destiny in all of this. If not for you I would never know how to appreciate all that I have._

_Although, you are watching from above, have a happy Christmas, darling. _

_Yours Always,_

_ Dean_


	7. Installment 7: Love Is In Our Hearts

**Title: **This Christmas

**Category:** Romance

**Summary:** Sequel to 'It's Christmas'. The Fates of our six couples are revealed on Christmas Days years after the ending of 'It's Christmas'. Not completely DH's compatible.

**DISCLAIMER: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author notes:** It is BEST if you read **It's Christmas** first but I don't think it will be mandatory. I'm actually planning to do a one-shot for every couple (even those who DID NOT get the girl) in **It's Christmas**. It's going be like homage to the original story. The Theme of this Series of One-shots is my favorite Christmas music; every one-shot will be named for one of my favorite Christmas songs!

It's the END! I don't have enough inspiration to write an ending for Ernie/Gwen so it definitely won't happen. I know it's fluffy but I got carried away and lost the entire point of this one. This is an *NSYNC song off their only Christmas CD. MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

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**This Christmas:**

Installment 7: "Love's In Our Hearts"

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**+ December 25 +**

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**

It was so cold, so very cold. These December nights would chill you to the very bone if you didn't have the proper clothes on. Hermione shivered as she stood in her grand parlor, watching the snow fall from a window that she had always thought was too large for the demure room. It was Christmas morning all over again and even she, in her infinite knowledge, could not rationalize what was about this day that made every thing special. She wrapped her arms around her frame, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. Christmas was always special time of year for her family but especially for her husband. Once the first snow of the season fell her husband was all smiles, she used to joke that he had a reverse form of Seasonal Affective Disorder because he surely was never sad during the Christmas Season.

But it was this time of year that she only felt cold. Sure Christmas made everything seem warmer and seemingly more wonderful but it was always Christmas that made her reflect honestly on her life. It was Christmas and even she could not lie to herself on Christmas. This was the one time of year she could have every single person she loved under one roof. This was the one season she had to look at her children and see that they were growing further away from those babies she once adored so much. It was Christmas that Blaise would insist they travel to his family's ancestral home in Italy and to include his extensive family. But then there was that Christmas that he surprised her with this little estate just miles from his family's mansion. No more waking to the sounds of Zabini women rushing, hushing, and fussing at every child and man they ran across. No more waking to the smell of freshly brewed cider and fresh bread baking halfway across the house. For the last five Christmas' she would awake to the smiling face of her husband and the sounds of her two lovely children attempting not to wake their parents on Christmas morning.

No matter how many wonderful Christmas memories she had it was just something about this season that made her kind of sad. Her eldest daughter, Sienna, was getting closer to finishing her Mediwizard training and her youngest, Elizabeth, was in the middle of her fourth year at Hogwarts. How time seemed to pass with every Christmas morning that came. She remembered, with a grimace, the Christmas Sienna brought George MacMillian – the son of Ernie MacMillian and Gwen Thomas – to Italy for Christmas. Elizabeth was the only one who thought the pairing funny, Blaise took an instant disliking to the boy – he was too much like his father and too little like his mother, far too haughty – and Hermione felt like taking to her bed. The moment had finally come that her daughter was dating seriously, seriously enough to bring him home for a holiday. She felt cold at the mere thought of her Sienna married to anyone, much less to George MacMillian. But now, finally, there was Noah Weasley and Hermione could actually smile at the thought. Noah was the only boy she could think of giving her little girl to, she knew Noah since before he was conceived, it actually warmed her a bit.

"What are you in here stewing over, darling?" whispered a tenor voice, as two strong, olive colored arms wrapped them around her not so dainty waist.

"Christmas," was Hermione's only answer.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" Blaise replied, placing his head atop her bushy mane as her head fell back into the curve of his neck.

"It is," she sighed, it was truly nothing like an Italian snow, "Sienna and Noah back yet?"

"Not yet," he answered, stiffly, "Elizabeth said Mother was still having tea with them when she left."

"How is your father taking his favorite granddaughter's first serious boyfriend?" Hermione chuckled. If there was ever a man that loved Sienna Jane Zabini with his whole heart it was Blaise's father. The moment Benito Zabini held the infant in his arms his cold, hard, exterior softened and she had held him captive every moment since.

"As expected," Blaise replied, gently squeezing his wife, "he likes it about as much as I do."

She turned around quickly, wrapping her arms around his waist, looking up at him like she did when they were teenagers. "It is time for Sienna to find her own great love but you and Benito will always have her heart you know."

"True," he smiled, placing a small kiss on her nose, "did you like my gift?"

"Did I?" Hermione grinned, thinking of the necklace, bracelet, and ring she received just hours earlier that featured the exclusive red diamonds. She had always admired her mother-in-law's red diamond collection – red diamonds sold for 1 million pounds per carat – and mentioned to her husband years ago how beautiful they were. This Christmas morning she had awakened to three wrapped boxes at her feet and when she opened the first she had cried, it contained the most elegant looking red diamond necklace she had ever seen, it looked like something a Queen would wear not her. But Blaise quickly reminded her that she was the queen of his heart. "I still can't believe I own one of the hardest diamonds in the world to buy or even find."

"Don't think it didn't take me years to get those to you as a gift," he said, placing another kiss on her nose, he always had a way of making her feel like they were newlyweds all over again. "That waiting list was damn near 15 years on that necklace alone but Draco and I pulled some strings and here it is five years later."

She chuckled. "Five is much better than fifteen. Elizabeth had already negotiated the bracelet for her first ball. I couldn't day no."

"No you couldn't." Then Blaise was hit with a sudden chill. "But let's not talk about my little girl at a ball with _boys_ . . . the thought gives me palpitations."

"Oh, my darling," she cooed. "It's going to happen eventually, you must know that."

"It's Christmas and I will hear none of that!" he countered.

Hermione laughed. "Fine, fine, it is Christmas so we will just discuss it in the morning."

"How about next year?" Blaise asked, sending her the puppy eyes.

She placed a thin hand on his cheek. "Fine, next year it will be. I'll allow you to have a Merry Christmas."

"Good," he smiled. "Draco said he and Parvati were going to stop by to bring the New Year in with us."

"Are they bringing the kids? Elizabeth would love to have some company her age."

He shook his head. "I don't think so; Draco said they were in Sri Lanka with the Parvati's family for holiday break."

"Pity," she said.

Suddenly Blaise kissed her with all the passion that he had felt the first time he had ever placed his lips upon hers. He kissed her slowly; savoring every moment like it was the last. It was Christmas that reminded him how much he loved his wife, his family, and his life. It was something about the season that made him look upon his companion as the most precious thing that walked this earth. Sure he loved and adored his daughters – he would give the world if would make them happy – but it was his companion, his helpmeet that kept his feet from hitting the ground. Hermione made his heart beat like he was sixteen again and a simple touch from her could cause such passion to rise in him that it would seem as if he had never had her before. Her lips never seemed too familiar to him; they always caused him to feel a rush of excitement, her little moans always ready him for their adventures later. His Hermione made Christmas what it was to him.

Hermione pulled away with a little sigh, she laid her head on his chest as he tightened his hold on her. She had given him everything in the world that mattered. How could he feel anything else but love when he looked at her? Sienna had once remarked that all she wanted was to be loved as much as her dad loved her mum, theirs was a romance that never ended. He loved her for who she was and she loved him for who he was, there was never an inkling of discontent beyond the normal martial disagreements. The Zabini's were known to have never "fought" they had "disagreements" and "mis-communication" but they never went to be angry. It was a love that kept them together when their son died soon after birth. It was a love that kept together when Hermione felt "cold." It was a love that kept them together when their upbringings and perspectives threatened to dismantle the fledgling family. It was a love that taught them that love was so much more than those myriad of emotions that one feels when they connect with another for the first time. It was a love that taught them that what they felt for one another could barely be articulated into words. It was a love that Blaise compared to the Muggle Christian meaning of Christmas: "What greater has man than this . . . ."

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she replied, her eyes closed as her head rested on his chest. She felt warm for the first time that day. "Happy Christmas, darling."

"Mmm," Blaise sighed, "it's always a happy Christmas with you."


End file.
